SƯEWE

<a class="left" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0FKZvFUYjJKrh0XUTNt3tzDAIfzts3L8gKmt4siwYoEKeW_3PgZor6PaksZu9ddCIw6cUIWmP7RAaMcfMPZzFxzLzvifIJvT1VLzPBVrPRDEZqwvMdZWF7dcDmqRkpv7darEZGKe8nZA/s1600/22+%282%29.jpg"> <img height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0FKZvFUYjJKrh0XUTNt3tzDAIfzts3L8gKmt4siwYoEKeW_3PgZor6PaksZu9ddCIw6cUIWmP7RAaMcfMPZzFxzLzvifIJvT1VLzPBVrPRDEZqwvMdZWF7dcDmqRkpv7darEZGKe8nZA/s320/22+%282%29.jpg" width="225" /> </a><br /> Nor is it at all prudent for the hunter to be over curious touching the precise nature of the whale spout. It will not do for him to be peering into it, and putting his face in it. You cannot go with your pitcher to this fountain and fill it, and bring it away. For even when coming into slight contact with the outer, vapoury shreds of the jet, which will often happen, your skin will feverishly smart, from the acridness of the thing so touching it. And I know one, who coming into still closer contact with the spout, whether with some scientific object in view, or otherwise, I cannot say, the skin peeled off from his cheek and arm. Wherefore, among whalemen, the spout is deemed poisonous; they try to evade it. Another thing; I have heard it said, and I do not much doubt it, that if the jet is fairly spouted into your eyes, it will blind you. The wisest thing the investigator can do then, it seems to me, is to let this deadly spout alone.<br /> <br /> Still, we can hypothesize, even if we cannot prove and establish. My hypothesis is this: that the spout is nothing but mist. And besides other reasons, to this conclusion I am impelled, by considerations touching the great inherent dignity and sublimity of the Sperm Whale; I account him no common, shallow being, inasmuch as it is an undisputed fact that he is never found on soundings, or near shores; all other whales sometimes are. He is both ponderous and profound. And I am convinced that from the heads of all ponderous profound beings, such as Plato, Pyrrho, the Devil, Jupiter, Dante, and so on, there always goes up a certain semi-visible steam, while in the act of thinking deep thoughts. While composing a little treatise on Eternity, I had the curiosity to place a mirror before me; and ere long saw reflected there, a curious involved worming and undulation in the atmosphere over my head. The invariable moisture of my hair, while plunged in deep thought, after six cups of hot tea in my thin shingled attic, of an August noon; this seems an additional argument for the above suppositio

SƯEWE

Nor is it at all prudent for the hunter to be over curious touching the precise nature of the whale spout. It will not do for...

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"Not forged!" and snatching Perth's levelled iron from the crotch, Ahab held it out, exclaiming—"Look ye, Nantucketer; here in this hand I hold his death! Tempered in blood, and tempered by lightning are these barbs; and I swear to temper them triply in that hot place behind the fin, where the White Whale most feels his accursed life!"<br /> "Then God keep thee, old man—see'st thou that"—pointing to the hammock—"I bury but one of five stout men, who were alive only yesterday; but were dead ere night. Only THAT one I bury; the rest were buried before they died; you sail upon their tomb." Then turning to his crew—"Are ye ready there? place the plank then on the rail, and lift the body; so, then—Oh! God"—advancing towards the hammock with uplifted hands—"may the resurrection and the life—"<br /> "Brace forward! Up helm!" cried Ahab like lightning to his men.<br /> <a class="left" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilEQmwz6VyurKCrKhGyp48uXSnePmBD8sEkGF-rbuG0TXmPhBzCcQS0JYf8QBgtDeeBpqwBxwEadXGTrTEPK7D7u5ByXWC1loDC3gbgn4_xTo_EC1f9-wUVrCyMjGYxFVKeMed55fFcQ8/s1600/marcfolio-headphones02.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilEQmwz6VyurKCrKhGyp48uXSnePmBD8sEkGF-rbuG0TXmPhBzCcQS0JYf8QBgtDeeBpqwBxwEadXGTrTEPK7D7u5ByXWC1loDC3gbgn4_xTo_EC1f9-wUVrCyMjGYxFVKeMed55fFcQ8/s320/marcfolio-headphones02.jpg" width="320" /></a><br /> But the suddenly started Pequod was not quick enough to escape the sound of the splash that the corpse soon made as it struck the sea; not so quick, indeed, but that some of the flying bubbles might have sprinkled her hull with their ghostly baptism.<br /> As Ahab now glided from the dejected Delight, the strange life-buoy hanging at the Pequod's stern came into conspicuous relief.<br /> <br /> "Ha! yonder! look yonder, men!" cried a foreboding voice in her wake. "In vain, oh, ye strangers, ye fly our sad burial; ye but turn us your taffrail to show us your coffin!"

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"Not forged!" and snatching Perth's levelled iron from the crotch, Ahab held it out, exclaiming—"Look ye, Nantucketer; h...

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